Page 241 of Bitten By the Fae
I couldn’t see him as well as he could see me, but I caught enough of his movements to recognize his intentions. His zipper whispered through the air, lashing my skin with a fresh wave ofwarmth and anticipation. However, he didn’t kick off his pants the way he’d stripped mine.
Hmm, no. He wouldn’t.
This was Zeph.
He needed a measure of control, which would come with him being partially dressed while I stood vulnerable and naked among the trees.
I didn’t mind. This was what I wanted. And his proclivity for dominance called to the queen within me. I adored the fight, the push and pull, the need to submit while knowing I could challenge him if I wanted to.
It made this so much more sensual and right.
His hands caught my hips, his arms flexing as he hoisted me into the air. “Wrap your legs around me.”
I did and moaned at the feel of his hard arousal situating itself right between my thighs. “Yes, Zeph. Yes.”
He didn’t enter me but teased me instead, his head stroking my clit with expert ease and causing me to shake against him. His mouth sealed over mine, catching my scream as rapture erupted inside me without warning. I hadn’t even felt it mounting, too lost to the teasing air and intensity thriving between us.
I panted against him, an apology on my tongue for exploding without his permission, but his tongue refused to let me utter the words. Almost as if he didn’t want to hear them. And maybe he didn’t, because I could feel his masculine pride vibrating around us, his obvious pleasure at causing me to fall apart without doing much more than stare at me.
“I love when you come,” he admitted, his lips tracing mine with each word. “I’m going to need you to do it again, Aflora. But around my cock this time.”
He didn’t give me a chance to reply, his hips shifting and causing him to line up with my entrance without so much as ahand between us. His body just knew where to go and how, and he proved it now by penetrating me with a thrust that left me winded.
His name caught in my throat, a cry of pain mingled with pleasure tingling against my tongue, and was swallowed abruptly by his mouth.
He kissed me as if he needed my essence to breathe.
And then he began to take me, truly, with his hips pounding against mine.
He’d been right about it being fast and hard, and it did hurt, just like he warned. But oh, it felt so good, too. I welcomed the scrapes against my back, bathed in the masculine growl coming from his chest as he pummeled into me, and tossed my head back on a sound of approval that probably echoed through the park.
If that guard came back now, I’d tie him up with a vine and stuff a flower in his mouth.
Because no one and nothing was going to ruin this moment.
Zeph had me.
I had him.
All I wanted now was his bite.
“Please,” I begged him, referring to the pressure growing between my legs and the ache in my veins. I needed him to finish this, to tie us together as one.
His lips feathered over mine, his hands tightening on my hips as he angled me to receive him even deeper. “You feel so fucking good,” he breathed.
“You, too,” I replied, unable to say more. I had my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders and my ankles crossed over his ass. The rasp of his jeans against my inner thighs heightened the moment, reminding me of my vulnerability with each stroke.
Yet I felt the tenderness in him, too.
The way he held me with care, his guarded energy as he monitored my reactions to his movements and actions. It hurt in the best way, and I made sure he knew that by gazing directly into his eyes and showing him what this did to me.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his mouth taking mine again in a brutal kissed underlined in promise. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Aflora, but I’ll spend every day thanking whatever higher power put you in my path.”
I arched into him, my limbs trembling with the intensity growing inside me. “I’m close.”
“I know,” he said, his tongue tracing a wet path along my jaw to my ear. “I can feel you clenching my shaft, pixie flower, trying to force me to come early with you.” He bit my earlobe, sharp enough to pause the mounting orgasm inside me. “Not yet, Aflora.”
“Please.”
